When you want forever with someone
by Little.Latina
Summary: How she wished she could convince herself she could be his one and done. How she wished she could convince herself no one else would be as extraordinary in his eyes as she was, ever.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is my first attempt to a Castle multi-chapter story. I hope you all like reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing every single paragraph. A huge part of the credit goes to Ella for being such an amazing beta-reader; she has done a wonderful job, and I wouldn't be posting this hadn't she told me she had loved it so much. I wrote this to give my ideas for a Caskett story a try; I hope you want to give them a try too. Please review, comments feed my inspiration!

* * *

Rain was pouring down New York, the sound of water cascading down the city that never sleeps. Katherine Beckett layed awake, sleepless, motionless... breathless.

Her lips were sweet and swollen, throbbing deliciously as she was reminded of his touch that she thoroughly remembered. Hours had passed since he dared to steal a piece of her, their mouths crashing together for the very first time, sealing a pact no one had ever spoken of. In the middle of a crisis, a poorly lit alley, what was cold and what was dark had met what was warm and what was bright, and she had suddenly felt she was drowning in a sea of fire, and to her fright, neither her head, nor her body or her heart had wished to be rescued.

Melodious words she had tried to forget with all her might tortured her ears like some old, melancholic song mixing with memories of his hands roaming her back, stroking her hair, his strong arms pulling her closer and wrapping her tight to protect the woman who swore she needed no protection whatsoever for she could protect herself very well. Her tongue and his tongue dueling, dancing, caressing and teasing each other.

_Always…_

_You will meet an Alexander…_

_Why do you keep coming back, Rick?_

_He's sweet on you, makes him brave… _

_Plucky sidekick always gets killed…_

_Thank you. For having my back in there…_

_I'm your partner, then…_

_I will do anything you need, including nothing, if that's what you want…_

_He's not buying it, Castle…_

_When I saw the blood on your t-shirt, I thought you'd been shot…_

_Thank you, that's really sweet…_

She wanted to scream. She literally urged to scream, to fill the silence that her apartment was merged in with the sounds of her pain, her frustration, her confusion, her fears... her agony. Frustrated and confused - those two adjectives suited her well. So did wounded, frightened and agonizing. Heartbroken, that she was too. And scared. She was scared even though she so kept selling herself lies, insisting that she was okay, that everything was okay.

She was not. It was not.

With her thumb she caressed her swollen, throbbing lips, slowly and timidly as to not wash away traces of him with her own fingers. The memory of him... the taste of him. She involuntarily closed her eyes in pleasure for a moment, remembering what it had felt like to be kissed by the man that had later saved her life, but then when she suddenly realized what she was doing she opened them up again and gazed intently at the ceiling, trying to erase it all.

What an idiot she had been, thinking a shower would wash away emotions she had never felt before in her existence, emotions that were still there because they were the kind that you cannot get rid of easily. What an idiot she had been, her mind fogged and her thoughts clouded; to think that kiss would not affect things. Reality had struck her all too sudden, and it had not been nice, for she now feared what the future held for them.

Kissing him had been Heaven that she could not deny just like she couldn't deny the passion that had flowed freely and naturally between them during those mere seconds they had been so engrossed kissing as if there were no tomorrow. The feeling of his hands' ministrations; the sensations that his eyes brought as he looked into hers right before he kissed her had broken the walls she had built to protect her soul from being damaged again; the butterflies that had flown happily in her stomach right before she kissed him back, it had all been so magic…

But it all was, like Nikki Heat, an illusion. He was enchanted by the idea of her, not by her. He was in love with the idea of her; he wasn't in love with _her_. He was not one to fall in love and settle down, that she knew, that she had learned by watching him interact with all those women that flew over his head like vultures waiting impatiently to have their piece. He was a playboy, a womanizer with two failed marriages weighting on his shoulders and he had a bad habit of liking to be seduced by gorgeous models and actresses that were only after his money and fame and all those things Kate was definitely not interested in. One night stands were his thing and she was not going to be one of his conquests. Something which she had decided a long time ago. First out of respect for herself, and then because – whether she was willing to acknowledge it or not - she had fallen head over heels in love with him and the last thing her poor, fragile heart needed was to be crushed by the man she adored.

She could not afford to risk so much for so little. Those two kisses, they felt like heaven. They truly did. The images her mind was conjuring of the two of them kissing each other senseless again in different circumstances and scenarios, she was sure they were bound to feel like Heaven too if they were to ever come true. But they couldn't become a reality. They couldn't go out of the limits of daydreaming and fantasy (not that she was happy she daydreamed of him and fantasized with him so much) because she would get nothing but a heartache and several headaches. Because even if he cared for her the way a friend cares for another friend, he would never be able to care for her like a faithful man cares for a woman; it simply wasn't in his nature to belong solely to a single soul.

Too many thoughts, too many reflections, too many realizations, too many doubts... too many feelings were consuming her up. She was in so much pain, she was so scared. She was scared of her feelings; she was scared of how hard and how fast she had fallen for a man that wasn't right for her; she was scared of whatever was in store for her.

She just wanted to scream; she just wanted her brain to shut up; she just wanted her heart to shut up; she just wanted to fall in a dreamless sleep so she wouldn't have to relive over and over again everything that had happened, including his sweet kisses. So she wouldn't have to face the nightmare she was sure she would have: Castle getting himself killed in his attempts to save her from the death that she would have met had he not been there willing to risk it all for his partner.

But any kind of sleep – dreamless or not, nightmare-free or not – was avoiding her. Playing a sick, unhealthy version of hide and seek with poor Kate, who lay wide awake, trying to escape her memories, her feelings, her fears to only be forced to face a fact that she had been tiptoeing around for way too long and that could not be ignored anymore.

She had fallen in love with Richard Castle, hard, so terribly hard. She had fallen in love with him like she had never fallen for any other man, because no other man had ever made her feel the way he did. Extraordinary.

She didn't believe in forever. She had never believed in forever for all things must come to an end, even those things that we think are meant to last for eternity. Yet there she was, 4 o'clock in the morning wishing Richard Castle could promise her a forever and ever. Three years ago she would have sworn up and down she did not believe and would never believe in the existence of that forever. She wished he was willing to sacrifice his lifestyle just like he more than once had been willing to sacrifice life itself for her. Just for her. His muse, his extraordinary KB.

How she wished she hadn't started to want forever.

How she wished she hadn't started to believe in forever.

How she wished the voices in her head, telling her forever was what she had wanted all along but that she hadn't realized it before because she was yet to meet the man that would be the love of her life, would just shut the hell up and leave her alone.

How she wished she wasn't agonizing over the fact that forever wasn't something Richard Castle could offer a woman like her.

How she wished that that kiss hadn't made her feel as if forever with him was the only possible happy ending for her.

How she wished she had been able to stop it all before he had become her moon, her sun, her stars, her blue sky, her Universe. Even if a part of her told her there was nothing she could have done in order to prevent that from happening because that fate, that destiny he believed in while she didn't had had it all planned all along.

How she wished she wasn't dying to dream of him that night (or whatever time it was left until dawn). Promising her forever, a forever she thought he couldn't give, not to her, not to any other woman.

How she wished her happiness had never come to depend on a man that she knew would only break her heart; even if she was sure he would put every ounce of willpower in protecting her. She was also sure he would, sooner or later, find himself unable to succeed and she would be left with her heart and hopes broken, abandoned once again and poisoned with memories, unable to recover from the wounds a failed relationship with him she knew would inflict.

How she wished she could afford the luxury of taking a risk with him in the hope of finding out she had been wrong all along every time she thought forever was something Richard Castle couldn't promise a woman.

How she wished she wasn't so madly in love with him, and only him.

How she wished a part of her wasn't so strongly tempted to throw herself in the arms of danger and run the risk of being loved, at least just once, by the man she wanted forever with, even if that meant ending with her heart broken, even if that meant ending torn apart, even if that meant ending with her soul cut into pieces when the time came for him to end it all and go find his next conquest. His next muse. Another woman to write about, another woman to call extraordinary... another woman to play the hero with.

How she wished she could convince herself she could be his one and done. How she wished she could convince herself he would be able to stay faithful to her. How she wished she could convince herself no one else would be as extraordinary in his eyes as she was, ever.

She caressed her lips once more, her throbbing, swollen, sweetened lips, fighting the urge to scream.

All those things she wished, just as strongly as he wished she could only see forever was the only thing he would promise to her, even if up and down she always swore forever wasn't a thing she believed in. But she didn't know that she has yet to see that. She has yet to see the man behind the playboy, the womanizer, the mystery writer, the novelist. Just like he has yet to see the princess behind the detective, the crime fighter, the mystery solver, the murderer's catcher.

It wasn't the differences between the two of them. It was bad timing and the incapacity to see that, different and all, from two worlds that had nothing to do one with the other and all, they were meant to be each other's eternity and that they could only have forever if they fought for it together because this forever was the only thing they would ever be able to promise each other.

Forever had begun a long time ago. The day she had first read his work and fallen in love with the idea of him; long before he met her just to fall in love with the idea of her; long before she became her favorite writer's muse; long before they became friends; long before they started to risk their lives for the other; long before they both realized what they wanted from the other.

Katherine Beckett finally knew what she wanted from Richard Castle, but she thought it was something he would never be able to promise her, given his nature.

She had no idea just how wrong she was.

She had no idea what the future held for them.

**To Be Continued. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** _Thank you so much for all the kind, lovely reviews you left me. Thank you for adding this to your Story Alert list. Thank you for being such awesome readers. I really appreciate the feedback, and it inspires me, it makes me want to write. This is just the other half of the beginning of a story I am dying to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it. _

* * *

He missed her, he really did. Had his aunt not died and had he not had to go on an emergency trip to Canada for her funeral, he would have shown up at the precinct the following day with a single red rose to ask her for a precious few minutes of her time, and then he would have poured out the contents of his heart to her; he would have explained in detail what her kisses had done to him and how he had been feeling ever since their lips had crashed together, ever since the night he had saved her, his actions creating a bond that would forever survive all adversities.

He did miss her, he did want to talk to her, see her; he was willing to do whatever it took to make her realize as well as he had that he could be good to her, that he was up to good, that he would never hurt her, that he wanted to take care of her, protect her, bring light and happiness into her life. He needed for her to understand that he was willing to fight as many battles as it would take for them to have a shot at forever. It was all Richard Castle needed. It was all he longed for.

Forever was something he had always wanted to give to a woman, and he knew that the woman he belonged with had been costum made for him; she existed, she was real. Her name was Katherine Beckett, NYPD detective. His extraordinary muse.

He knew she was in a relationship with motorcycle boy. He knew she probably thought that the guy could offer her some stability, and the down to Earth relationship she had always aimed for. He looked like a nice guy that meant well, and of that Castle was sure, he had seen it in the guy's eyes. He probably made her happy too. He knew it was going to be difficult, but he didn't care. He was willing to do whatever it took to have her see that soul mates existed, and that _they _were that: soul mates. He had felt it in that kiss, he had felt it in the way her hands had roamed his back, and he had seen it in her beautiful eyes (just like in Josh's eyes he had seen he cared for Beckett). She loved him, he had felt that love, he had felt that connection, and let him rot in hell if he was wrong, but he was sure Josh and Kate did not have what he had with her and would never have something similar to what he shared with the young detective.

As soon as he went back to New York he would come clean. He would tell her why he had left for the summer with Gina, he would offer an expkanation about what had pushed him to make such terrible mistake, and then he'd tell her why he had break things off with his ex wife as soon as he had realized he couldn't keep on kidding himself when it was so obvious that his heart had for quite some time belonged to his partner. The partner he had been willing to risk his own life for.

That kiss had only reassured him her feelings were as strong as his were. It wasn't just pure chemistry, it hadn't been something that had just happened in the heat of the moment, it wasn't just two years of pent up sexual tension. It was more than that, so much more than that. It was love, devotion, adoration, all three of them rolled up in one. It was those emotions that had burned their lips; those emotions were still burning him up, consuming him slowly but deliciously, they were driving him crazy.

Of something he had been sure for a long time now: they belonged together. He didn't know exactly how, he didn't know exactly what it would take or how many days, months or years would pass until he could get her to see it too, but he would show her he loved her more than the sun and the rain and the stars combined together, he would show her that he was in for the long run, that he wanted to be her one and done, that he wanted them to have forever.

Forever, that word sounded so beautiful when thought in the context of him and Kate enjoying the rest of their years on this Earth hand in hand, hearts beating together and synchronized, like they had since the day they had met at that party, when she had gone to bring him out for questioning and the ride of their lives had begun.

Forever, that he could give her, that he wanted her to have… with him.

He only needed to prove her he could be everything she deserved and more, everything she wanted and more, everything she had always dreamed of and hoped for..., and more. He only needed to prove her he wanted to make her happy and that he meant well, that he would never destroy what they had for a collection of one night stands, that she was not another of his conquests, that she was… special, magical, extraordinary.

His KB was extraordinary, and he had fallen in love with her.

_Just a couple more hours and I'll be back home_ he thought on the last night they were spending at his relatives' house. _I'll be back home, back to my muse._

She looked pale, thin, worn out, feverish. She had dark bags under her greenish eyes and a rough cough that wouldn't seem to go away and, by the way she rubbed her temple every now and then without even noticing what she was doing, anyone could have told she had an awful headache as well. She had come down with the flu, but, stubborn as she was, she was refusing to go home and have some rest, insisting that she had work to do and stuff to take care of, and that none of which could wait until she had rested and gotten back on her feet.

She knew that it hadn't been a wise mood to go out for a walk at 4 in the morning the night of the storm, but she had done so without thinking, probably as a response to an impulse, to the urge to have the rain wash away everything the shower she had taken had not: memories, thoughts, emotions, doubts, Castle's kisses, her mother's case, Raglan's death, the man that in prison would rot for his crimes but that had chosen not to mutter a word about that third man they were yet to catch, everything and anything that was haunting her. It had not worked, needless to say, and she had ended soaked up in rain, shaking like a leaf and dead cold, feeling sorrier, sadder and more confused than before.

She didn't want to go home. Those days, going home meant going to an empty, silent apartment that had for furniture bookcases filled with mystery novels by Richard Castle, and a couch where they had both sat the other day while they went through the files of her mother's case and ate take out, and a bed where she had lay motionless, breathless and sleepless for the past couple of nights thinking about the man that had stolen her heart and made her fall head over heels in love with him, the man that had made her want to have a fairytale's happy ending that only a few lucky people got to experience (that she knew for a fact).

She preferred to stay at the precinct, where she could take her mind off things by loading herself with amounts of work greater than what any normal human being could have been capable of accomplishing in spite of her headache, her nailing cough and her aching muscles, all casualties of her stupidity of two nights ago when she had acted irrationally and thrown herself in the pouring rain.

The same morning she had gone see that man in prison (her perfect, impeccably applied make up hiding whatever marks had been left on her beautiful face by the complicated night she had spent dueling with herself and dealing with all sort of complex emotions) she had gotten a text from Castle saying he was going to be out of town for a couple of days: death had claimed a beloved one, Martha's cousin (or _her sister_, as Martha would call her, since they were so close; and by how often Castle talked about Auntie Elizabeth, Kate knew she must have been his favorite aunt). The family of three was going to fly out to Toronto - where the woman had enjoyed her last months at her son's home - to attend the funeral and spend some time with their relatives in Canada.

She had texted him back right away saying she was deeply sorry for their loss and he had replied that he knew she was, and then she hadn't received any other texts from him… until Tuesday morning.

Pale, thin, worn out, feverish looking Katherine Beckett was reading a report when her cell phone beeped. The first thought that crossed her mind – cloudy and foggy because of the temperature she had, yet working tirelessly, brilliantly and efficiently as ever – was that Lanie had not yet given up and was going to insist once more that she went home, where she could treat herself with some hot tea or a bowl of chicken soup and then cuddle in bed and sleep it off, a piece of advise she had been driving Kate crazy with for the past forty eight hours, since the ME had been the first to notice the signs that screamed to the well trained eye that her friend was ill.

But it wasn't Lanie who had sent that text. Her heart leapt painfully when she read those simple words that made her feel as though she was back to that night two days ago, at home, the clock reading that it was 2 in the morning, the rain pouring down New York City, the urge to scream eating her alive, her lips still caught on fire by the memory of his dancing upon them.

_I miss you, KB. I can't wait to see my extraordinary muse._

She hated it when he did that, she hated the butterflies it gave to her stomach, how dizzy and lightheaded it made her feel, as if she were some silly teenage girl crushing on the president of the book club (_been there, done that, got my heart damaged _whispered a voice inside her head); and at the same time she loved all of that, she loved the million butterflies it gave to her stomach, she loved how dizzy and lightheaded it made her feel, she loved the warm, fuzzy sensation that could only be described as… love.

Katherine Beckett would have never wanted to admit it, but she was a woman of contradictions: for every part of her that adored every little thing about him, there was another part that hated it all with the same passion and intensity.

She was so confused. She was so very confused it hurt to the bones.

Destiny (she didn't believe in it, or so she said to everyone that walked her way, even though she had started to have her doubts as of late) had wanted her to become her favorite novelist's muse. That man thought her to be extraordinary, he had kissed her like no other man had ever done so; he made her feel alive, he made her smile, he had made her fall head over heels in love with him, he had made her want forever with him. But forever she didn't know if she would ever have.

It was complicated, it had always been nothing but complicated, and ever since they had kissed it had become more so, and she had come to a path where she didn't know what to do, what to expect, how to act next, where to go.

_"Where would you go, Kate?"_ the same voice inside her head whispered _"Where do you think you'd go? Why would you consider going somewhere, Katherine? You can go nowhere. You have Josh. You can't leave him. He is a good guy. He is safe. He loves you. He cares about you. He'll be back in a week and all of these feelings for Castle will go away, you'll see; they'll all go away the moment you fall back in the arms of your boyfriend. Josh is good for you, Kate, he is safe, he is all you could possibly want in a man, all you could possibly hope for, he is all you have ever wanted and hoped for, you cannot let this slip away like you did with every other man that treated you right. Josh is what you need"_

But that was a lie she couldn't buy anymore, that was an old, useless lie she couldn't keep on telling herself. She didn't want Josh. Josh was a good guy, that was true; and he was safe, he was real, he was a down to Earth guy, he saved lives, he had both feet on the ground, he was an excellent person. He would make a good husband; he was made of the material she always thought she'd want her one and done to be made of. But Josh was not what her heart wanted, she had never really wanted him, she had just pretended she did to get back at Castle for leaving for the summer with his ex wife (that wasn't a part of her plan, of course not; it had been a Freudian slip). She had always pretended she cared when the truth was she could not care for Josh _that_ way. She loved him as a friend, but that was it. And her telling lies, it was only going to lead to her hurting both Josh and herself.

She didn't want safe, she didn't want a 'husband material' guy, in case such thing existed. She wanted Castle. She wanted the magic. She wanted extraordinary. She wanted the writer that pulled on her pigtails and drove her crazy out of her skull and sent her a text saying that he missed her and calling her his muse even though she had told him she didn't want to be called anyone's muse (another lie, of course). She wanted the man she could trust and share everything about her past and her mother's murder with. She wanted everything he was. She wanted _him_, all of him, flaws and all.

She wished she didn't, but she did. She wished she could change it, but it couldn't be changed. But she was so proud and she was so confused and so scared that she would never admit it to anyone else. She was so proud, so confused and so scared that she'd keep on living in a lie, telling people how great Josh was, harming them both pretending that something that had been doomed from the very beginning was working the way it should, keeping her distance from Castle, acting as if he was an annoying 9 year old on a sugar rush that had warmed his way to her heart only to become a good, trustworthy friend. Because Kate Beckett could take a million risks when it came to solving puzzles, catching killers and saving lives, but her life she could have not saved for when it came to her heart she could not risk it to have it bruised again: she'd rather it was whole but unhappy than broken after having experienced a taste of what real, pure love feels like when shared with the person that was born to be your other half to later be separated from him by the forces of that destiny she insisted she didn't believe in.

She didn't reply to the text she had received; she put her cell phone away and kept on working, all the while trying not to think about his kisses, all the while trying to ignore the love-hatred waves that were sweeping through her poor, fragile body. She put all the strength she had left and all of the willpower she could muster into not thinking about those new words that had automatically been added (against her will, or so that part that refused to take a chance would tell herself) to the list of phrases by Richard Castle that were etched in her heart, mind, soul and skin.

Three hours later she left, maybe because she was burning, maybe because she was so tired she was afraid she'd pass out right there and then (which would lead to the captain, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie or the four of them taking her to the hospital and insisting that one of them stayed the night with her to make sure she was fine and following doctor's instructions), or maybe because the emotions elicited by that collection of syllables he had sent her earlier that day were so strong they were wearing her down even more than the flu attacking her system already had.

Kate went home and crashed on the couch, ignoring the answering machine that showed she had two voice messages, one of them belonging to Josh early in the morning telling her how much he loved her and how sorry he was he had missed before she left for work. It was definitely good that she hadn't listened to it, because it would have really pain her to hear the voice of the man she was supposed in love with whispering sweet nothings and promising that even though he loved what he was doing in Africa he was counting down the days to go back home, to her, to her arms; how would that have made her feel? Her boyfriend was on dangerous territory saving lives and doing good to people that had nothing, and there she was in that jungle they call New York City, beating herself up because she had fallen in love with her partner and wanted to spend an eternity with him, even if she was _almost_ certain that it was an impossible wish she wished she didn't have.

As confused and scared as she had spent the last couple of days, she fell asleep to the sound of her heartbeat telling her brain it was time she swallowed her pride and took a chance on the man she loved, the man she wanted to be with, the man that could make her happy, that man that thought she was an extraordinary muse.

She didn't know it, but her walls had started to crumble, her walls had started to fall down, her walls had started to vanish, and she was about to be left vulnerable, unprotected, exposed, easy target for a certain writer that had already made up his mind and decided he was going to fight for his princess.

She didn't know it yet, and had she had a way of knowing she would have hidden away from it and simply ignore it and deny it, but forever had already begun, and they were both about to be faced with the fact that there was no way their life would end apart.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:** This story is back, and it's here to stay. I am so sorry for the delay, I really am. Some difficulties have gotten in the way, but here I am again and I am ready to continue with this story as planned. This chapter is really short; maybe for some of you it won't make sense, maybe you won't like it at all (I am not sure I like it), but I promise it will all make sense later once chapter four is posted, everything will be explained and all questions will be answered. I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you'll like reading the rest of this story. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, and thanks to all of you who have added this to their story alert list._

* * *

Martha had decided to stay a few more days with her family, and Alexis had agreed to stay with her, even if that meant missing half the school week.

He had decided to go back to New York City. He needed to see her. He needed his muse. He needed his Katherine.

He was supposed to get home around 11 PM, but he hadn't set foot in his loft until after midnight because his flight had been delayed. He was excruciatingly tired and wanted to do nothing but to crash on his bed and sleep soundly until the following morning, give his body the rest it needed and allow his mind to drift off to a wonderful dream-world in which instead of holding his pillow like a 3 year old he got to hold Katherine Beckett, the piece he had been missing, the woman he had come to depend on in ways he never thought possible.

He had decided he would be honest with her, honest about everything: his feelings, his intentions, _everything_. What he had to offer he wanted her to have. Not his money nor his material possessions, the glamour, the fame; he wanted her to have his heart, his soul, his smile, his kisses, his hugs, all of those things that money just can't buy. He wanted to be the one who made her feel safe, content, cherished, loved. He wanted to be her one and done, he wanted to give her forever, he wanted to spend every single day he had left proving to her he truly adored her.

He would call her as soon as he woke up after catching up on some much needed rest. He would ask if he could go over to talk, and then he'd pour his heart out, he'd open up the window to his soul so she could see he was for real, so she could see he would be willing to give up absolutely everything if that guaranteed him her happiness and wellbeing.

After taking a shower he changed into more comfortable clothes, he then went to bed, he hugged his pillow, closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and thought of his Katherine, his muse, his everything, his partner, the woman he wanted forever with, his extraordinary princess. Tiredness started to catch up with him, his body relaxed into the mattress and he succumbed to the darkness, ready to spend the next eight hours floating in dreams of her kisses. He was already drowned in the memory of her lips on his lips and her hands caressing him when he heard his phone going off.

Someone had sent him a message.

It was her. That someone was her. His Katherine.

She had sent him a message.

He felt his chest tighten, his heart skipped a beat and then it went crazy, beating so fast it hurt his ribs. Breathing became difficult and an unknown feeling he could have not described formed a knot in his dry throat. The clock read it was almost 2 AM and he had gotten a message from her. Katherine Beckett had sent him a text in the middle of the night. She usually called when there was a case, but now she was sending him a text. That wasn't like Kate at all. That was why he felt fear eating away at him and questions attacked him: was she okay? Had something bad happened?

He touched the screen with his thumb and waited for it to be filled with whatever words she had written. Seconds of waiting felt likes hours, but they were there at last, so raw and so powerful he felt overwhelmed.

"_Why do I love you so much? Why do I miss you every second of the day? Why can't I stop thinking of you?"_

He had to rub his eyes because he couldn't believe what he was reading. It had to be a mistake, he had to be dreaming… Was it a joke?

Before another thought could cross his mind, before he could even remember how to breathe, his phone went off again. He had a new text from Beckett. Another text filled with words that shocked him.

"_I need you so much I can't breathe without you"_

He was torn between calling her or running to her house to check on her in case she was in a dangerous situation, so dangerous the only way to let him know she needed help was sending something that would make him put two and two together and realize something was up. He had told his mother he loved her when he was being held hostage a couple of months ago: what if Beckett was going through something similar?

It was illogical, completely illogical. Had she been in danger, she wouldn't have sent him those texts; she wouldn't have been able to have a phone with her to begin with, and in case she had managed to get her phone with her and use it somehow, she would have asked for help straight forward. But logic always evaded Castle and he was so emotional when it came to her the desire to protect her and the fear he could lose her before he had even had her were stronger than any coherent thought he could have had, stronger than any coherent thought that could have made him see he was panicking for nothing.

He was already half dressed and about to leave the loft when his phone went off once more. The third text read:

"_I need you so much I am losing myself without you. Make it stop, because I can't"_

He swallowed hard; the a knot in his throat was still there. He couldn't breathe, he was sick with worried, he felt lightheaded and the terror before the perspective of something – _whatever_ being wrong with her was so powerful he didn't stop for a moment to consider that maybe she wasn't in danger, that maybe those texts she was sending were the words of a woman that needed to come clean. That possibility never crossed his mind, for he was tired and stressed and in pain and he hadn't had a good night sleep in a very long time and his brain was unable to process anything. And his heart was unable to even consider Katherine Beckett could ever profess her love for him like that in a right state of mind.

He left in a hurry, his cell phone still clutched tightly in his hand. He hailed a cab and spent the ride calling her non-stop, but no one picked up. Logic evaded him once more, and panic rose again.

What were those texts? Why had she sent them? What was wrong? Those were the questions that wouldn't stop coming to him. The writer in Castle couldn't stop coming up with worst case scenarios that involved all sort of things, including the men that were behind her mother's death. Those, he thought, were obviously messages she had sent in order to alert him, to let him know something wasn't right and that she was in need of help. And that was a thought that truly terrified him. He was scared to the point he didn't even think of calling Esposito or Ryan for back up: he just wanted to get there, he just wanted to be there with her, he just wanted to make sure she'd be okay, he just wanted to know what was going on.

He had no idea that what he would find once he got there was something the writer in him would have never imagined.


End file.
